


Libations

by penlex



Category: DCU, Justice League (2017)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blowjobs, Body Hair, Body Worship, Comeplay, Cunnilingus, F/M, Flirting, Hand Feeding, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Relationship Negotiation, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 11:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12630495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penlex/pseuds/penlex
Summary: Bruce and Diana engage in some semi-traditional worship of each other.This is my 69th fic published on AO3, so of course...





	Libations

**Author's Note:**

> Theme songs for this fic are: A Case of You, Take Me To Church, and Lady So Devine.

They're taking the tea Alfred had brought around for them after some routine analytics business in the Cave. There are little finger sandwiches to go with it, and Diana has just bitten into one of them when Bruce asks, "Would you be interested in adding a sexual component to our current relationship?"

Diana pauses in chewing, processing his words. The plain phrasing is shocking just for its rarity in man's world - the number of grown men that Diana has found able to have a respectful and adult conversation about sex is remarkably slim. Slowly, she feels a grin take over her face and has the privilege to see a correlating blush bloom across Bruce's cheeks. But despite his clear embarrassment (likely he thinks she's laughing at him, rather than charmed as she is) he doesn't backtrack or drop his eyes from hers.

"I appreciate your candor," Diana says finally, setting down the little sandwich, still smiling widely for exactly the reason she gave. "And I must admit I've considered it extensively."

"Oh," he says, and does turn away now, one corner of his mouth tilting up just a touch, flattered and bashful over it. Of course he would stand tall in the face of perceived belittlement but balk at even such a vague compliment. The more Diana knows about Bruce the more endeared to her he becomes, each new discovery adding that much sweetness to all his more obvious bitter parts. She would be very interested in doing a great many things with him, and sex is definitely one of them (was, in fact, something she was interested in even before they were really friends).

"What did you have in mind, specifically?" Diana wonders, taking another sip of her tea as she peruses her own (wide and varied) thoughts on the matter, not pausing on one idea too long before she has his to work with too. Bruce fidgets - only ever so slightly, of course, barely perceptible even to she who knows him so well and is paying attention; he is still the Batman after all, even when he's embarrassed. He hasn't looked back at her again yet, his cheeks still beautifully pink over his scruffy jaw. He taps at the table between them, blows out a frustrated breath, impatient with himself.

Diana uncrosses her legs, not overly showy about it but more than just a shift of her weight, and crosses them the other way. She savors the growing warmth of her body when his eyes catch on the movement of her legs and get stuck there. He finally looks back into her eyes then, with a flat baleful expression, clearly knowing that she had purposefully drawn him into looking. Diana only lets her grin stretch over her face again.

"I'm helping," she murmurs, completely unrepentant. Bruce's lips twitch into half of a smile. He tries to smother it. He fails.

"I do like your legs," he admits, that part apparently much easier to give voice to than what he'd like to do about it, even though he was the one to bring doing something up in the first place. Diana supposes she could have some mercy on him and describe what she's been thinking about doing with him all this time, but she happens to be having a little too much fun watching him struggle.

Finally Bruce sighs and manages haltingly, "I'd… like to… service you. Feed you. Bathe you. Perform a lot of oral sex for you." Diana coughs out a real laugh this time, and Bruce sighs in irritation, though his mouth is still tilted in that helpless little half smile. "What exactly am I saying that is so funny?"

"No, it's nothing. You are just very cute," Diana tells him, shaking her head with affection. "And," she adds flirtatiously, still grinning wide, "that sounds a little bit like traditional libations. Or at least the first part does."

"You're not really a goddess," he says stubbornly, though the way he pouts at the table tells Diana he says it much more out of personal principle than a genuine argument. She hums and lets him have it for his pride. After all, he did recently take the existence of Atlantis in as much stride as it seemed he was able even though it had looked like it had pained him greatly to do so (something about nothing he knew actually being true, the silly man).

"You want to treat me like one," she points out instead. "So tell me, what is the difference, in the practical sense?"

"Not much, I suppose," he admits grudgingly with a sigh before stuffing a finger sandwich whole into his mouth, definitely still pouting. Adorable. Diana takes another long sip of her tea, considering Bruce's offer more seriously now that he's managed to give her some details about what he wants. It differs from her own fantasies involving the two of them, but it certainly doesn't sound unpleasant.

"One caveat," she decides finally, setting down her teacup into its saucer with a soft tink. Bruce tilts his head for her to go on, both curious and cautious. "I want to worship you, too." Diana watches as Bruce's eyes widen, just a little, the way he swallows in surprise. She knows he would never have thought of this himself, what with the way he seems to think of himself in relation to others that he finds admirable (strange and frustrating for him to be confident in his capabilities but insecure of his worth; Diana hasn't yet figured out how to combat it).

"I am certainly no god," he protests, predictably, his half smile going wry, his voice both rough and small - a trialled and hardened man, but also a quietly hurt little boy. He thinks himself a devil of course, but Diana knows him to be just a man. A good man, a man that she would like to please as much as he'd like to please her. She hums in acknowledgement of his near truth.

"Then we are equal," she says, and smugly returns to her tea when he cannot find an answer to that.

…

Diana is charmed again - but not surprised - then, when after a nighttime vigilantism outing with the rest of their slowly solidifying group, after the two of them have returned to his Cave as they have formed the habit to do, Bruce shyly produces a plate of honey crackers and selects one to offer to her.

"I… Well, I may have done a little research," he tells Diana's left shoulder. Diana grins at him freely, and instead of the cracker she takes Bruce's face between her hands and pulls him into a kiss. He kisses her back without hesitation despite his apparent bashfulness, licking against her bottom lip. She opens for him, draws him in, his tongue and his lips plush and soft in contrast to the beard he is not really growing but rather simply neglecting to shave. He tastes like flavored coffee, bittersweet and warm - just like him. The kiss has to end then, because Diana is smiling too hard to continue it.

"You're laughing at me again," Bruce states when he pulls back. His lips twitch, letting Diana know that he isn't insulted, so she only hums in agreement even as she runs her tongue over her own lip now to chase the taste of him. She takes one of his gloved hands in hers to lead him by, his other hand still somewhat awkwardly holding his plate of cracker offerings, over to the futon he has set up just past the massive computer system. They sit atop the smooth black sheets, and Bruce sets the crackers down beside them.

Slowly, they peel each other out of their respective armors in a quiet intimacy, both the literal kinds and the figurative, caressing each part of the other that becomes revealed - the skin and the deeper, less tangible parts, parts that not many ever have the privilege to see of either of them.

Diana curls her fingers in Bruce's sweat dampened hair, tilting his head back so that she can run her nose along the vulnerable curve of his throat, revelling in how his breath catches inside it. He slides his hands over her shoulders and down the valley of her back and breathes her name more like a prayer than many Diana has heard, more even than some she has answered. In his mouth it makes her feel powerful - more powerful.

When they are both finally bare, it is Diana who puts the first honey cracker against Bruce's lips for him to take. He gets that boyishly shocked look on his roughened face again, even given that this was her condition, as if he thinks perhaps she would have changed her mind about him being equally worthy of any worship she is, but he opens his mouth and takes the offering from her hand without resistance. He feeds her one too, and then kisses her again so they can share the taste more intimately.

Diana pushes Bruce gently backwards, their mouths separating as he allows himself to fall with a huff of displaced breath, and then he pulls her down with him, on top of him. Her hair falls down past her shoulders and around them both. Bruce takes some of it in his hands to hold it back from Diana's face so that he can peer up into her eyes with a wonder she knows he would never find the words for, whether he was willing to try or not.

They kiss again, the pinprick of Bruce's stubble against Diana's lips making her feel tenderized and tickled not just where it touches her directly. Her lips tingle, and so does she inside with anticipation. She licks into Bruce's mouth and he opens to her with a heady ease, sweeping his tongue along hers with the same harmony they have with each other on the battlefield. Their mouths make sweet, wet sounds together as Diana lowers herself all the way down onto Bruce, sparks alighting all along her bare skin where her body touches his.

Bruce has a strong, resilient body, with rough skin just as decorated with wiry hair as his jaw. Diana was already aware of this, constantly with him at her side during and after battles. Many of the fantasies she had mentioned having when he had asked if she would like to take him to bed feature him in his shower in this very room, washing away the grime and blood of one of the small wars they win together, wrapping himself in one of his absurdly luxurious black towels, and lounging barely covered and still damp on his high backed chair, waiting for her to come and unwrap him again like a gift.

Now, underneath her, Bruce is naked and dry, the taste and smell of him gone just slightly stale from being confined to the unbreathable Batman suit all night previously, but even still - as fantasy has always compared to reality - this is much better than what Diana had imagined. The hair on Bruce's chest, and the knot of a scar across one side of it, tease Diana's breasts with their rough textures. She presses more firmly into him, rubbing herself on him like a cat, and a pleased murmur rumbles quietly in his throat.

Diana decides, with the kind of impulsiveness that men like Bruce tend to bring out in her, that she wants to feel all that lovely texture on her lips, with her tongue and teeth, and join it with the taste of his skin which she is eager to know as well and as soon as possible. She wriggles down Bruce's body, ungraceful, and revels in the hum of a laugh she can feel more than hear. Just over his heart, Diana finally pauses in her descent to get her mouth on him. His dusting of fur scrapes along her tongue and the taste of him is just like his scent right now - stale from being confined in his suit for the night, but only more pleasing to Diana for the imperfection of it, more familiar. She closes her lips and sucks gently for more, glad when she hears Bruce hiss through his teeth in response. Diana looks forward to nothing more in this moment than to make him get loud and uncontrolled.

With that solid and specific goal in mind Diana pushes herself down Bruce's body further, dragging her mouth along every inch of skin within range as she goes. By the time she reaches the nearly imperceptible conclave of his stomach, Bruce is breathing only in pleased little sighs, one hand tangled hopelessly in Diana's hair, his muscles jumping at every brush of her touch.

"I thought," he gasps out as Diana diligently works a love bite into the curve of his pelvis, ignoring for now the growing length of him just under her chin, "this was supposed to be about  _ mutual  _ worship."

"It is," Diana agrees mildly, even as she kisses in closer to Bruce's cock, stretching her tongue out to drag over his thick happy trail and finally, gleefully, getting him to moan out loud.

"I can't-" Bruce's teeth snap closed on his words with an audible click, clenched together and still failing to hold in the half frustrated half relieved groan as Diana takes his prick in her hand and lifts it to lay on his belly where her mouth will be able to get to it more comfortably. "I can't reach you down there."

"Hmm," Diana hums, acknowledging the problem without much concern. She will offer forth a solution in a minute, but for now she is far too impatient to be doing exactly what she is doing. So instead, she takes the head of Bruce's cock into her mouth and suckles on it gently, dips the point of her tongue into the still dry slit, eager to have it be wet for her.

" _ Ah _ , Diana!" Bruce yelps on the end of a shaky moan. His hand in her hair tightens sharply and his back bows. Even in the ugly florescent light of his cave he looks like a work of art like that, just as indomitably beautiful as any depiction of a true god. "Diana, please," Bruce adds. He's still gasping and the hand not ensnared in Diana's hair petts down her neck and shoulder, his callouses giving her goosebumps everywhere they touch. Diana releases him from her mouth and sighs as if put upon, deliberately making sure her breath gusts over him where he is wet with her saliva and even more sensitive. He shivers convulsively, and Diana grins, knowing that - like her - he is anything but cold right now.

Finally willing to see to their compromise now that she's gotten a taste of what she wants, Diana lifts away to find a better position for more reciprocal activities. Bruce did already mention performing a lot of oral sex as a form of 'servicing' Diana, and Diana is more than on board with that - and in matching Bruce's every offering back onto him. There's only one thing for it then, really, and Diana shoots a wolfish grin up at Bruce that has him blinking in what looks like an alarmed sort of arousal before she swings her body around to straddle his head.

"Ah," he says, looking directly up, seemingly captivated by what he sees. "Yes, that works." Diana wishes she could still see his eyes, see how far his pupils have dilated. But of course there are other ways to observe how much Bruce wants her that are still perfectly within Diana's view - and her reach.

Bruce's erection is lying on his belly where Diana left it, the head still shiny from having just been in her mouth, catching that ugly florescent light and looking just as pretty in it as the rest of him does. She takes it in her hand again, leaning over his hip, and shivers to feel his sigh breeze in between her legs.

Bruce puts his mouth on Diana before she gets hers back on him. The soft, warm touch of his tongue slips unhurriedly between her folds and then draws away again only to dip back in, getting to know her taste. The contrast between that and his prickly beard is even better here where she's more sensitive than it was at her mouth when they kissed. She spreads her legs farther apart on either side of his head, pressing herself closer to those wonderfully differing frictions. Bruce's cock twitches in front of Diana's eyes when she does, and seeing it moved for her like that makes her mouth begin to water.

Diana leans forward and echoes Bruce's oral technique on him with relish, licking and kissing over his shaft in a steady exploration. He tastes nearly like any other man here - the bland flavor of skin, heightened with the heat of arousal - but something about it being  _ him  _ makes it seem more savory in her mouth than others have been before him.

Bruce brings his hands up to join his mouth between Diana's legs. He holds her hood taught with two fingers so that his tongue can stimulate her clit more directly, and he cups her thigh with his other hand just so, in order to dip his thumb inside of her. Diana moans around her mouthful and rocks her hips into the rhythm Bruce has taken up.

It's a little bit of a balancing act for her to be able to get a hand on him without removing her mouth, but Diana has always been both skillful and determined in all things. She tucks her arm underneath the back of Bruce's knee, hugging him close and bringing herself down to take more of his cock into her mouth. With the other hand she brushes her fingers against his sac, that same wiry hair like everywhere else tickling her palm. His thighs tense and he moans against her at the touch of her nails, sending vibrations through her body from his.

The more bitter taste of preejaculate starts to fill Diana's mouth, and she can feel herself sliding over Bruce's fingers and chin with how wet she is too. Bruce closes his lips and sucks some of it into his mouth like he just wants more of the taste of her, and his cock falls out of Diana's mouth and back onto his firm stomach when she lets it fall open to moan. Bruce chuckles a little, sounding smug, but the way his body shivers, out of his control, when Diana dips her tongue into his slit belies that attitude.

Diana kisses open mouthed all around where Bruce's cock rests across his pelvis where she dropped it, teasing, nuzzling against him, but not sucking him back into her mouth again. The sound he makes next has gone up in pitch, which Diana decides immediately she can't get enough of. She squeezes her handful gently, just to hear it again. Finally, Diana swallows Bruce down again, this time taking him as deep as she can - still savoring his taste as before, but now more eager to hear what kind of noise he will make.

It turns out to be a strangled groan and then another broken, worshipful gasp of her name. When he has his breath back enough, Bruce redoubles his efforts to pleasure her, almost like in revenge, or as if it's a race.

If it is a race, Diana thinks, he happens to be winning. She keeps getting distracted by each new contortion of his hot tongue against her, the way he seems like he just can't get enough of her, his thumb rubbing and dipping inside her. Diana's center is hot and tight, her hips moving helplessly against Bruce's ministrations, and it's getting hard to breathe. She's sure she's making plenty of tantalizing noises for him too, though she can't be bothered to pay attention to that when he is just that much sweeter to listen to.

Diana focuses with great effort and begins to bob her head to the rhythm of Bruce's relentless thumb, the same rhythm of her own hips. She revels in every shift of Bruce's body under her, every stuttered breath and muffled whimper, every fresh spurt of precome that coats her tongue. The dual sensations of him heavy in her mouth and stretching her lips and the slick friction of his mouth and his hot breath on her when she makes him gasp is maddening. Diana can feel a sheen of sweat gathering in the small of her back, in the creases of her thighs. She wonders, vague but excitedly, if Bruce will lick it up. She wonders if he would like the taste, if he did. She suspects that he would. She hopes that he will.

Before long it all gets too much and Diana can't keep up what she's doing to Bruce, struggling too much to keep her teeth covered when all she wants to do is bite down on her own lip and moan for him. She lets herself collapse against him, resting her damp forehead on Bruce's equally damp hip, her hair falling over her face and across his thighs. He giggles, apparently ticklish there, and Diana laughs too, charmed by him as always, even as her hands curl into fists in the futon's sheets and she squeezes her eyes shut. She pants against his skin as he flattens his tongue against her for a few long sweeps from her hole to her clit. He seems not to mind at all that Diana has stopped sucking him, in fact he only seems encouraged - continuing to eat her out with a singular, almost obsessive, focus that is very familiar, that has always been sexy and now Diana finally gets to experience it used for sex…

Diana only stays at rest for a few moments, though. She figures if she's not going to manage to make him come in time with her, then she might as well take the opportunity to ride his tongue instead. She sits up and shakes her hair, now damp with both of their sweat, out of her face. She leans her weight on her hands on Bruce's chest and splays her knees out wide. Distantly, she hears the plate with the crackers on it knock against the wall, and as she starts to rock her hips against Bruce's face in earnest she hopes it didn't break because then he might get cut by the pieces and they'll have to stop…

Bruce's tongue doesn't relent - he isn't distracted from pleasuring her by anything, not by how slippery she is against his face, not by how now that her mouth is free he has her almost shouting, not by the way her nails dig into his chest, not even by the way she twists one of his nipples on a whim. Although, that last thing does get his hips to jerk up into the air, seeking friction that is no longer there for him, and makes him moan long and low. Diana shudders hard at the sound, the vibrations of it. Bruce has both hands wrapped around her thighs now, both holding her open for him and holding onto her to keep his own balance in the onslaught of her pleasure onto him.

When she comes, Diana's toes curl hard enough to make the arches of her feet cramp. Her voice echoes out into the cave and back to her - to them. She thinks she might have woken the real bats that live here. She comes down from her climax slowly, not a little because Bruce hasn't stopped stimulating her, though he's much more gentle about it now.

"I thought," Diana breathes with some difficulty when Bruce slowly begins to pick up his pace again, "this was supposed to be about  _ mutual  _ worship."

"Oh, please do forgive me," Bruce says with his usual touch of sarcasm. But his quiet laugh is genuinely amused, and he does put his tongue back in his mouth and let Diana pull away. She puts herself back into the position she started, lying comfortably between his legs where she can return his favor. He leans up on his elbows so that he can watch her - though if Diana has anything to say about it, he won't be able to keep that up for very long.

Diana kisses into Bruce's navel first, dipping her tongue inside like it's his mouth. His muscles contract sharply and his next exhale is shaky, and when she can't help but grin Diana lets her teeth scrape against him. She detours again to Bruce's happy trail, enjoying the prickly rasp of his hair against her tongue. She wonders if he would like it pulled. She'll ask him later. For now, it's time for Bruce to come. Diana takes him into her mouth and sets her own rhythm this time.

"Do you-  _ ah _ ," Bruce gasps, one of his hands grabbing onto Diana's closest shoulder and then fluttering away again. "Can I hold-?" Diana hums in assent, and then reaches out to take his seeking hand and fold his fingers back into her hair for him. It's only bare moments before Bruce's other hand joins that one, laying him out flat on his back, exactly like Diana had wanted him. She can't hardly smirk with his cock in her mouth, but the feeling is certainly there, especially with the way his hips are arching for her. She walks her fingers up his side to the nipple she twisted moments before and earns herself a deep thrust into her mouth and a whimper.

Diana is smug and satisfied, and feeling the ripples of continued arousal, when Bruce finally comes in her mouth. He cries her name again, arched once more. She pulls away from him with her mouth still full to stroke him with her free hand and just watch him - his black hair blending in with his sheets as he presses his head back and bares his throat, the contrast of his pale skin, the way his ribs show through when he's all stretched out like this, his hips squirming at the overstimulation. He's beautiful and powerful. His temple would overflow with gifts, if he had one. She'd like to make him one.

When Bruce has collapsed into limpness again, and his jaw is working silently around soundless moans, trying to catch his breath, Diana finally takes both hands off of him. His cock is wet and red and not soft yet, and his abused nipple is rosy and swollen too. He looks absolutely ethereal. But otherwise, now that the scene is over, the semen still in Diana's mouth has grown a little unpleasant. She'd rather not swallow and have the uncomfortable thickness of it in her throat, so instead Diana spits it out onto Bruce's belly, since that's just what happens to be right in front of her mouth.

"Gross, Diana," Bruce complains, sounding like he's scolding her for putting a worm on him, even as he uses the same hand he's just wiped his sloppy mouth with to pet tenderly through Diana's hair.

"Liquid libations are meant to be poured," Diana explains with faux innocence, leaning on one elbow to brush her own fingers through her now sticky hair. Bruce gives her an unimpressed look.

"Thanks," he says. "But no thanks." Diana laughs and shrugs, and then for his sass she rubs his spunk into his skin where she spit it.

"Even grosser," he accuses, twisting up his lips in exaggerated disgust. Diana only grins up at him. She hears the hitch in the slowly smoothing cadence of his breath betraying how he really feels about it. She stops when he makes an actually genuine noise of discomfort, though. But it has nothing to do with her - he shifts uncomfortably and reaches underneath himself to pull out a half crushed cracker. He glares at it like it has done him a personal wrong, and Diana can't help but laugh again, before she takes the cracker into her mouth from Bruce's hand.

"I got wine, too," Bruce says after clearing his throat. His eyes are still dark, watching her. She licks her lips. "And olives." Diana wrinkles her nose.

"They put them in cans now," she says with distaste. "Now  _ that  _ is gross." She narrows her eyes when Bruce gets a thoughtful look, and firmly orders, "Do not buy fresh olives just for me, Bruce."

"Alright, I won't," Bruce concedes - too easily, Diana knows him well enough by now. "I guess we'll just have to stick with the wine then."

"Olive oil will work instead," Diana tells him, choosing to ignore the fresh olives issue. He is rich enough for it not to really matter what extravagant gifts he wants to get her; the difficulty will only be convincing him to take such gifts from her.

"That sounds a bit bland," he says, facetious, and Diana smacks a flat hand on his side in reprimand. He squirms away with a boyish giggle that makes her want to roughhouse with him - real play fighting for once, rather than sparring for training purposes.

"Obviously you have it with the wine," Diana patiently explains, bantering along with him. "So ignorant, I thought you said you did your homework on this? Traditionally, you soak bread in them both, but maybe off of skin the taste will be even better, hm?"   
  
"Yes," Bruce says, his voice going thin again. "Yes, that sounds much more flavorful."

"Yes," Diana agrees with another laugh, rolling off of him onto the crumb covered sheets. "Flavorful. A very worthy libation for two gods to offer to each other." She determinedly kisses away the doubtful look he gives her at that, and he lets her for long moments before he slides away and rises.

"Just something to share between two lovers," he argues half heartedly as he stands and moves towards the stairs to retrieve his wine from the lake house above. Diana lounges on his futon and watches him go. She hums in acknowledgement of his near truth.

"Tell me," she murmurs, greedily drinking in the shape of him, the strong and striking lines of his bare body. "What is the difference?"

She smirks and fishes a cracker up from the sheets and bites into it, smug, when he cannot find an answer to that.


End file.
